


House Party

by writingramblr



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Modern AU, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt reads:<br/>They had met at some lame apartment party on floor 5; Sansa went to celebrate finishing midterms and Sandor went for the free booze. </p><p>He was drunk and full of courage; she was sober and just plain bored. There was something intriguing about Sandor to her…maybe it was the way he punched some blonde jerk in the face when he tried to hit on Sansa. Maybe.</p><p>My edit was:make it end of term, so taking place in spring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> I fell in love with this idea, and mostly because I love Modern AU stories with San/San. This is my first try at writing them, so please forgive any OOC-ness, as it is likely to occur.  
> Also, I tend to get a bit rambly, hence my name, so if the beginning seems slow, it's b/c i was trying to set the scene.  
> I've also only seen the first two seasons of the show, not read the books, so I am not perhaps in tune with their characters as much as some.  
> link to tumblr post :  
> http://writing-ramblr.tumblr.com/post/49325487844/oursisthekegger-sansa-x-sandor-au-modern-day

Sansa Stark threw her pen down triumphantly. She flipped the bundle of papers over on her desk and sat back in her stiff backed chair. She had just finished her last question on her last exam.

She breathed a sigh of relief. The last problem had been a challenge, but she was confident she would get at the least partial credit, at best, she'd lucked into getting the entire answer correct. 

She glanced about the classroom at her fellow students, most were still hunched over their desks, furiously scribbling, faces contorted in concentration.

Sansa bit back a smile. She knew they were likely struggling on the same problem she had only just conquered. She rolled back her shoulders, relishing the snaps and pops as her muscles were released from their tensed position. 

Her long red hair was held back in a tight ponytail, to prevent any chance of stray strands falling into her face during testing, thus distracting her.

Now that she had completed her work, she reached back to pull it free. It fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and she absentmindedly picked up a lock and began twisting it and braiding it as she watched the remaining minutes on the clock tick away.

When the bell rang, it startled her from a daydream, and she quickly picked up her backpack, carefully packing her tools and extra papers away, before rising to turn in her test. Her teacher gave a rare smile, and nodded goodbye.

She was not exactly a 'teachers pet,' but she was a student who never used excuses and always had compared her work to a high standard. There was no grading curve at her university. Each student either did well, and went on to succeed or failed and was expelled.

Sansa was the former, throughout her years in high school, and now in university. 

She had decided to study and major in political science, and though it might not seem like an especially ambitious career, she had also taken a minor in mathematics. 

It had kept her quite busy. She was ready for a respite from school, even if it was only until the beginning of summer, when her job applications would be submitted and vetted.

When she arrived home to her small apartment just outside the city and noticed the garish pink flier on her door, her curiosity was peaked.

***

Sandor Clegane was a gruff and sometimes downright intimidating presence anywhere he went. Whether it was his stature or general lack of tolerance for anyone on earth’s bullshit, he still managed to hush a room wherever he went. 

His lifelong career of being in the security business had taught him one thing, you can't trust anyone. Everyone is capable of something, no matter their background.

In his particular field of work, bank security, he was always observing, and constantly on high alert. It meant the second he got off the clock and home; he was opening the bottle and pouring a glass of something strong. He drank black coffee all day at work, and only let himself truly relax when at home.

He had been married once, and it had lasted a year, before their love had turned sour, and he had come home and caught her with another man in his bed. She had claimed he'd become distant and a workaholic. He'd punched the man so hard that his jaw had been dislocated.

Divorce papers had been in the mail shortly after, with a second official envelope containing a restraining order.

He couldn't have cared less. When you started to prefer work to your own wife, there was something lacking.

When he heard something at his front door, he leapt into action, and yanked it open to find the hallway empty, save a garish pink flier that was taped to his door. He only had to read the first few lines, and see the words, "Free Beer." And he was intrigued. He needed more booze but hadn't felt like going shopping, this was the perfect solution.

 

***

The crowd on the fifth floor was so loud they could have been heard throughout the entire building. Luckily for the partiers, the rest of the building was practically attending said party.

Sansa arrived a decent half hour late, having been caught up cleaning house and thus drowned her watch, accidentally losing track of time. Once she passed through her bedroom and noticed her bedside clock, she hurried to clean herself up and get out the door. The noise from above had not clued her in, as she'd been engrossed in listening to an audio book through headphones while she worked.

When she stepped across the threshold to the party, she realized her mistake. She liked to dress up, having grown bored of the way most slobs around her looked, and as such, tended to overdress wherever she went besides school.

This was one such occasion. She'd chosen a simple Little Black Dress, with comfortably high black kitten heels, and used gold and silver jewelry to accessorize. She had left her long red hair down, but applied a straightener to it before leaving. It was a shimmering red silken curtain that fell halfway down her back.

She'd left makeup to a minimum, hoping to keep a low profile. The only item she refused to do without was her favorite coral lipstick. 

She picked up a glass of punch, which she knew from past experiences could contain anything, and simply walked about the room, socializing here and there with neighbors she recognized. 

***

Sandor was right on time to the party, standing outside the door, ready to knock the moment he heard music start playing. He clutched the horrifically pink flyer in his hand, not wishing to simply waltz in and be assumed a cop. When the party throwers, a brother and sister pair by the name of Dany and Vick saw him, they stepped aside and ushered him in, gesturing about the room, but he only cared about the drinks.

He ignored the blaring music and slowly rising chatter as he chugged an ice cold brew.

The entire room certainly was noisy enough to wake the dead, and as luck would have it, the nearest cemetery was in the next county.

A young man with shockingly white blond hair caught Sandors eye as he moved about the room. He paused to speak with a small lithe red haired woman, who was turned facing away from Sandor. 

However, though he could not see her face, the woman’s body language spoke volumes. The blond haired man began to speak more vividly, at least going by his facial expressions, and when Sandor saw the man reach over and place a hand on the woman’s shoulder, he stepped forward, away from the makeshift bar.

The woman flinched away, and put her own hand out to push the blonds away.

Sandor growled, the sound going unheard over the party din, but the rising level of voices was making his head hurt. When he was level with the red head, or rather her head was level to his shoulders; he stepped diagonally, so that he half blocked her from the blond. He then turned to her, the words poised on his tongue,

"Is this man bothering you?"

But they died in his throat. For the face he was now frozen and looking at was surely the face of an angel. Albeit one not from any story or fairy tale. She had red hair indeed, but up close it resembled a bolt of red silk, with some gold highlights here and there. Her eyes were a light green, almost like mint leaves dipped in crushed pearls. He was no poet, but he could have gone on for hours describing her. The pressing matter at hand was the fact he caught a glimpse of the blond man out of the corner of his eye, and reached up just in time to ward off a blow. It was like being swatted by a fly.

He held onto the man's hand and gripped it tightly, looking back to meet the man’s gaze,

"I think you need to leave, sir."

The alcohol was making him brave, and slightly reckless.

The woman behind him inhaled sharply, and he hesitated, but then the man moved to pull free, and threw another punch his way.

Sandor rolled his eyes and blocked that one, before throwing one back, a left hook to his jaw.

The blond stumbled backwards, and cradled his face in his hands, muttering curses under his breath.

Sandor glared at him, and there was no need for a further exchange.

The party had never paused to draw breath. A small scuffle it seemed was hardly interesting.

A small hand tugged on his sleeve, and he turned around to face the woman.

With this second look, he realized that she was much younger than he'd first thought. She was barely a woman. 

She gestured for them to go out of the room, and possibly away from the bar. 

Sandor leaned forward, shouting so she would hear,

"I'll meet you in the hallway upstairs!"

He then pointed to the bar, and she shrugged knowingly.

"Okay." She mouthed in reply 

***

Sansa was shaking slightly. She couldn't believe what had just happened. She had not taken a sip of the punch, therefore she had no doubt this had really happened. But she was still processing it.

When she reached the hallway on the above floor, she sighed with relief. The noise was much duller, and she was able to hear herself think.

She began wondering who exactly had come to her rescue. Did he live in the building? Surely not. She knew every neighbor on her floor, and then some. Perhaps he was a friend of the party hosts.

When she heard loud heavy footsteps she looked around, unable to resist smiling at her rescuer. 

"I'm sorry; I forgot to ask your name."

The man shrugged,

"You couldn't have heard, not in that place."

"How can I ever thank you? That infuriating little man was driving me nuts. Why don't men understand 'no' means 'no?'"

The man chuckled, his voice deep and rough like a smokers.

"Don't forget who you're talking to."

She shook her head,

"I don't mean to lump you all together sir."

The man frowned,

"Please. Don't call me that. My name is Sandor. Sandor Clegane. I live on the top floor, number 1E."

Sansa nodded thoughtfully. No wonder she didn't recognize him, she never had any reason to visit the penthouse apartments. They had always been out of her price range. She was curious as to what he did. He didn't seem the rich type; rich people didn't hit men who bugged women at parties. 

They usually did the bugging.

Oh goodness there she was, generalizing again. She realized she had accidentally missed something the man, no, Sandor had said. She also had forgotten to supply her own name.

"I'm sorry?" She looked up to meet the man's gaze. He was a good foot taller than her, so it did feel like she was having to crane her neck as she looked at him.

"I asked what you were doing at a party like that. You didn't seem to be drinking, or mingling much. You actually looked bored until that idiot started pestering you."

Sansa smiled,

"I'm celebrating the end of my semester. Finals were today. I'm pretty sure I passed. Plus, though you didn’t see me 'mingling,' I do know almost everyone in our building. Except you of course. And I'm Sansa by the way."

Sandor nodded, and was surprised when the girl, Sansa, stuck out her hand. He took it, and she had a surprisingly strong grip.

"Nice to meet you Neighbor."

"Same."

Sandor stepped back and took a seat on the steps leading to the next floor.

"So tell me, what are you going to be when you grow up?"

Sansa tried not to take offense. She knew she looked younger than she was. Everyone jumped to that conclusion, that she was almost a decade younger than she looked.

"'When' I grow up? Oh sir, I'm afraid I already have. You're looking at a woman who's not been able to pin down her own identity for the last few years.

It was only when my father gave me a book on politics that I truly knew what I wanted to be."

Sandor cocked a brow, 

"Must have been quite a book."

Sansa smiled,

"It didn't hurt that I'm a fast learner."

Sandor bit back a laugh, and watched with interest as her cheeks flushed, no doubt aware of the many ways one could interpret that sentence. Especially after the night they'd both had.

"Well my head is starting to hurt; do you know how to make a decent cup of coffee? Or should I need to teach you?"

Sansa ducked her head, the long red waves falling over her face, hiding her blushing cheeks.

She had a guess as to exactly what he had in mind.

She straightened her back, rolling her shoulders and wincing at the audible pops and snaps.

"Okay, that sounds good. That party punch was god awful."

Sandor had watched quite amusedly as the girl stretched herself, rather like a cat, if she hadn't had such an elegant face, and an innocent expression, he would have said she was trying to flirt. But she had no need. He wanted her badly already.

"Lead the way sir." She stood, gesturing to the elevator, and he mimicked her movements, shaking his head to himself. She'd called him 'sir' twice, he was no sir.


	2. Apartment 1E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa Agrees to coffee at Sandors place, somewhere away from the rabble and noise of the House Party. Is coffee all they have on their minds? Psh. Nah.

The apartment was a lot more spacious than Sansa had been expecting. “Why didn’t he throw the party?” she thought to herself with a grin, he had the room for it. Then again, he wasn’t the most social guy.   
He shut the door behind them and quickly moved to the kitchen.   
“So how do you take your coffee-?”  
Sansa turned from where she had been staring out at the city. His living room had a stunning view.  
“Just black for me thanks.”  
Sandor tried to hide his surprise. A girl that went to parties and shied away from the alcohol, and now preferred black coffee? Most girls he knew liked it dolled up with milk and sugar and fancy flavorings.  
Then again, he hadn’t met a lot of girls like Sansa.  
She was quite fascinating to him. He almost thought she would have fought off that blond if he hadn’t stepped in.  
That was an amusing thought.  
The coffee finished brewing and he poured them both steaming mugs.  
He brought hers over to where she still stood, enraptured by the night skyline.  
“Careful, it’s straight off the burner.”  
Sansa turned and smiled,  
“No prob. Thanks.”  
He watched as she blew on the surface before taking a dainty sip. The girl in her was starting to come back, and the seductress had left.  
Hopefully not for good.  
Sandor gestured over to his black leather couch,  
“Would you like to sit down? I bet there’s some sort of late night sci-fi horror movie on.”  
Sansa wrinkled her nose,  
“No thanks. Those always give me nightmares.”  
Truth was, she was growing jittery from the caffeine and slightly anxious. She could have sworn they were there for more than just chit-chat.  
***  
When he sat down and shrugged in her general direction, downed the rest of his coffee, and sat back, relaxing into the leather, she lost her patience.  
She slowly strode over to him, and plopped down in his lap.  
When he looked at her in shock, she smirked,  
“Now, why don’t we get to business hm? That party was dull, this could be more fun.” She wiggled her ass over his thighs, and she felt the muscles ripple beneath her, as well as something else.  
He growled deep in his throat, and his hands rose up to grip her arms,  
“Are you sure about this little one?”  
Sansa pursed her lips,  
“I know I’m little, but I think I know what I want. Kiss me.”  
Sandor grinned, before pulling her flush to his chest, his lips meeting with hers roughly. She gasped into the kiss, and he took it as an invitation to slip his tongue between her lips.  
She hummed into his mouth and his hands moved up to tangle in her loose red waves, gripping tightly enough to keep her from moving, but not hard enough to hurt.  
Sandor grinned against her lips, this girl was quite the minx. He could try his best to hold her head still, but her hips were still writhing against his thighs, and brushing over his erection with every move.  
“Shall we move this somewhere else? Or did you want me to fuck you on my leather couch?”  
Sansa hissed as he moved his dirty mouth to begin nibbling and sucking along her neck and down to her collarbone.  
“I think we should move. I don’t wish to wake up with a crick in my neck tomorrow.”  
Sandor stood quickly, his hands having shifted below her legs and behind her back, carrying her princess style.  
“Wouldn’t want that. Did you plan to be spending the night as well?”  
As they reached the foot of Sandor’s king size bed, Sansa shrugged, right before she was dropped onto the silky comforter,  
“Well if you don’t like cooking breakfast, I guess I won’t be.”  
Sandor stared down at her, before shucking off his shirt and pretending not to notice how Sansa’s gaze scanned his bare chest appreciatively.  
“Like what you see?”  
Sansa smirked,  
“Absolutely.”  
She moved to kick off her heels, and start unzipping her dress, but suddenly he was right next to her, his hands stopping hers by way of gripping her wrists.  
“Let me.”  
He was gentle, but somehow possessive in the way he unhooked her necklace, and pulled off her earrings, before setting them carefully aside on the nightstand.  
Then he moved to unzip her dress, and Sansa shivered as the cooler air hit her skin. The coffee had warmed her significantly, and Sandor could almost feel the heat radiating off of her pale skin.  
She was only wearing a strapless green silk and lace bra with a matching thong, and nothing else. He traced his fingers along her shoulders and moved down to unhook her bra. He could see freckles dotted here and there, like specks of cinnamon in a cup of cream.  
Another shiver went down her spine, but not from the cold. His hands were rough with callouses from his work, and they created a delicious friction wherever they touched her.  
Sansa was about ready to chastise him for going so slow before he pulled off her bra, and reached down to practically shred her panties.  
She pouted briefly,  
“I liked those.”  
“I’ll get you some more for your birthday.”  
Sansa cocked a red brow at him, joking even though her body was nearly shaking with need,  
“Sounds awful serious. Maybe you could just send them anonymously.”  
“Mmm the mysterious Underwear admirer. Not creepy at all.”  
Sansa couldn’t resist a chuckle, which quickly melted into a gasp as Sandor gently pressed her back against the sheets with his hands on her shoulders.  
He loomed over her, hovering so he could gaze at her naked body, before shaking his head,  
“Something tells me if anyone else had been hitting on you, you’d not have given me a second glance.”  
Sansa rolled her eyes,  
“Are you really second guessing yourself now? I’m naked, and I want you. So take your pants off. Or do I have to do it for you?”  
Sandor growled at her, and wasted no time doing as she said, albeit reluctantly, considering he didn’t like being ordered around by girls.  
When he finally reached down to rub a thumb against her throbbing clit, she arched into his hand.  
He smirked at her,  
“Not so bossy now.”  
“Just move!” she gasped out, and he did, bringing his index and middle fingers to trace around her outer lips, before carefully thrusting them inside her. She was practically dripping, and momentarily fretted about messing up his nice sheets, before the fluttering of her orgasm started to make her thoughts fuzzy.  
He knelt between her legs, which she had spread to give him better access with his hand. When she snapped her eyes open and her mouth went wide with a quiet gasp, he removed his fingers and palmed his erection, spreading her arousal over himself.  
“Ready? It might hurt.”  
Sansa impatiently nodded, and refrained from disputing his claim.  
He thrust in slowly and groaned at the feel of her around him. She was so warm and wet and frankly, it had been way too long since he had been inside a beautiful woman.  
Her inner walls gripped him tightly, even as her legs moved to wrap around his back, heels digging in to push him deeper.  
“Harder.” She hissed, and he couldn’t disobey that order.  
He pulled out almost completely, before thrusting back in again. He sped up his motions and she began to slowly twist her hips along with each thrust.  
He leaned down to capture her lips in a soft kiss, and she responded by biting on his bottom lip.  
“Okay,” he thought to himself, “She does want to play rough.”  
Before he knew it, he was gritting his teeth and trying to remember exactly what kinds of booze he needed to stock up on to keep from coming like a teenager.  
It really had been too long.  
When she reached down to touch herself and bring on her second climax, he could feel her tensing up around him, and it took him over the edge.  
He moved his arms to her side so he didn’t crush her as his thrusts grew sporadic, and he groaned as he emptied himself into her.   
He gently pulled away and fell over to her right, collapsing onto the sheets, which felt very cool against his sweaty skin.  
Sansa was wearing a satisfied smirk on her face, and she turned to face him, propping up on her elbow,  
“Did I wear you out sir?” A single red brow was cocked mischievously, just so that he would know she was teasing.   
Sandor frowned, and would have been more annoyed if she hadn’t just given him the best orgasm in way more months than he cared to count.  
“Jeezus woman. Call me Sandor.”  
She giggled, and snuggled closer to him, before kissing him on the cheek, almost like a goodnight kiss.  
“Sure thing Sandor. Now, go to sleep. Don’t worry, I’ll be gone by morning.”  
Just before he felt himself drift off, he found himself thinking perhaps he needed to start learning how to cook breakfast.


	3. Afternoon Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor runs into the redhead who shook up his world at her favorite haunt.

Sansa resumed her normal activities, which mostly involved waiting on her applications to be replied to. Eventually she grew bored of sitting in front of the computer, halfheartedly typing up practice articles and resumes. She decided a good strong cup of coffee would do her good.  
She recalled with a smile the cup she had had the night of the house party with Sandor Clegane. The upstairs neighbor she had never managed to run into before. He wasn’t exactly the social type, so it made a bit of sense.  
It had been almost a week since that eventful night, and she hadn’t received any unmarked packages of lingerie, so she could only guess he had probably forgotten about it.  
She smiled again to herself, as she packed up her laptop and grabbed her purse, heading out the door to the stairs.  
He was quite the character.  
As she made her way to the nearest coffee shop with WI-FI, she wondered if she would ever run into him again.  
***  
Sandor had woken up to find the other side of the bed cool, and a cheeky note with a small drawing of an underwear set that matched the one he had removed from Sansa’s lithe body.  
He laid back against the pillows and groaned in annoyance. She had indeed snuck out on him. It was rather ridiculous, that was what he was supposed to do.  
At least according to Hollywood.  
The entire day passed without event, but he couldn’t get the red haired minx out of his mind. She was like a gnat buzzing about his brain. Except instead of wishing for a flyswatter, he wished to have an excuse to throw a party, just to invite her. Maybe even that blond jerk so he could rescue her again.  
The next few days and when he went to check his fridge for a beer, he finally remembered why he had gone to that silly party. He needed alcohol.  
No more avoiding it. He needed to leave the house.  
After another night of fitful sleep, with dreams plagued by a mysterious red haired pixie who had only been wearing a few golden green leaves in the right places, he stumbled out of bed and into the shower.  
He flipped the knob to cold to help wake himself up, and to keep from indulging his morning wood.  
When he had scribbled out a passable list for the liquor store, he carefully locked his apartment, and headed out.  
He hailed a taxi and tried to keep from falling asleep on the drive to the store.  
***  
Sansa typed quickly on her laptop, catching the curious glance of the few patrons in the coffee shop who were only there to watch the scenery go by and sip their milk with a dash of espresso.  
She preferred a latte with almost three shots of espresso, as it helped her focus. Though when the words started to jump around on the page, she realized it was probably time to save the document and order something a bit lighter.  
When she heard the bell over the door ding, she glanced up, a bit quicker than usual thanks to her caffeine high, and she was stunned to see Sandor himself. He looked a bit confused, and frankly, lost. The menu was large and a bit intimidating to new people who wandered in off the street. You had to be a novice to avoid being distracted by all the fancy drinks.  
She gently closed her laptop, and promptly skipped over to him.  
“Hey stranger. Long time no see. Want me to order for you?”  
Sandor looked down at her, and a shadow of a smile crept across his face.  
He had missed her a lot more than he was ready to admit. One night stands weren’t supposed to make such an impression, especially with a building neighbor.  
Sansa stood there, almost perched on tiptoe in her black ballet flats, with Sandor managing to tower over her, yet still warm to her presence.  
“Okay. Thanks.”  
She smiled at him, reaching up to pat his shoulder,  
“No worries. See that silver computer over there? That’s mine, go ahead and have a seat, I’ll be right over.”  
Sandor sat down where she had indicated, and wondered exactly what she would order for him. He hoped it wouldn’t be some frilly drink that only resembled coffee, and really contained half an ounce of it.  
Sansa bounced over with a smile, and thrust a steaming cup into his hands.  
“That was fast.” He remarked, his voice slipping into a gruff rumble.  
Sansa shrugged,  
“I just asked for a cup of the strongest brew. I didn’t say to leave room for cream or sugar, because I know you like it black.”  
She didn’t say that she was simply guessing from the night before, and the fact she had been the one who had asked for it from him.  
Sandor cocked a brow at her as he took a tentative sip.  
It was good and strong, like a right hook to the jaw.  
He grimaced and took another sip before Sansa began to speak again.  
“Now, I was going to apologize for leaving, by text, then I realized I didn’t have your number. But here you are, so I can tell in person. A few days too late, I know. But I’m just not a morning person. So I had to split. You understand right?”  
Sansa smiled sweetly as she took a pull on her triple espresso.  
Sandor looked rather confused,  
“Really? That’s why you left? I thought you were trying to be the manlier one, cause I was going to have to insist you come back tonight and let me prove you wrong on that account. These last few days have been hell. You ever been told you are a deadly distraction?”  
Sansa nearly choked on her now cold coffee at that statement.  
It was true, she wouldn’t have minded another go round with him, but there was the small matter of defining the terms.  
“Ah. You know, I haven’t. But there’s a first time for everything.”  
She shrugged and downed the last dregs of her expresso.  
Sandor growled, low in his throat, like an angry dog,  
“Yes. First time. So I’m only going to say this once, I’ll be happy to take you to dinner, or a play, or whatever the hell you girls like, if you come back to my place again, and no sneaking off in the morning.”  
Sansa arched her own red brow at him,  
“Is that a threat?”  
Sandor smirked,  
“I think you know you want it just as badly as I do. Tell me, who exactly do you think of at night when you’re playing that ‘instrument’ between those pretty legs of yours?”  
Sandor made sure to use air quotes with the word so as to leave no doubt in her mind as to what he was referring to.

Sansa blushed prettily, but didn’t deny a single thing he had said.  
“Okay, you got me. I’ve missed you too. But isn’t it still clichéd for the girl to want more after the one night stand?”  
Sandor shrugged,  
“Does it have to be just a one night stand? Perhaps that was simply the dress rehearsal. After all, we don’t even know any of each other’s kinks.”  
Sansa looked at her nails, her expression calm, but her mind racing a mile a minute. Images fired across her brain, flashes of sweat dampened skin, hands everywhere, and even an unconventional use for some of the patterned ties she’d been collecting from second hand shops over the last year.  
“Okay. So tonight? Let’s plan for dinner somewhere. What kind of food do you like?”  
Sansa finally looked back up to meet his gaze, and he rolled his eyes,  
“Does it matter? Food is food. As long as I don’t have to wear a suit and tie.”  
Sansa grinned wickedly,  
“Why don’t you let me wear the tie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end yay. Thanks for all the kudos and comments. I had NO idea this story would become so popular. I guess we just need more Modern AU SanSan stories on here. So, everyone else, get to work. I'm done...for now.


End file.
